


What he was born for

by Sindarina



Category: The Magnificent Seven (1960)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Drama, Gen, WTF Combat 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:21:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28669887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sindarina/pseuds/Sindarina
Summary: What was Lee born for, the handsome dandy? (translation)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	What he was born for

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Для чего был рожден](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9165403) by [Kagami](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kagami/pseuds/Kagami), [The_Magnificent_7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Magnificent_7/pseuds/The_Magnificent_7). 



> My first translation ever from Russian to English! Fun and a nice challenge! A huge thanks to Kagami, and to mcicioni for looking it over and helping :) Hope you enjoy it.

Lee enjoyed big cities. Broad streets, stone houses, stylish coaches and fat, sated horses. Ladies with umbrellas and small dogs on a leash. Every morning fresh newspapers and a cup of delicious coffee, cozy hotel rooms, soft carpets and black doorkeepers, bowing in an obsequious way.

He had been born for it after all.

For lavender-scented soap and expensive cologne. For ironed sheets. For late gatherings that lasted until the small hours and long discussions on the situation within the country and across the border. For a game of whist. For greeting people with a slight bow, for the attention of nice ladies. For canaries in gilded cages. For stylish suits and snow-white shirts, for carefully selected vests and neckties. For comfortable, custom-made boots. For expensive guns with mother of pearl grips.

And especially for gloves, thin and tight, fitted to the palms like a second skin.

Impeccable, clean, costly.

Yes, gloves – Lee never refused himself that special gratification.

However, sometimes fate throws unpleasant surprises at people, and their closets run out of room for skeletons.

And instead of a big city – a godforsaken small village. Instead of a carriage and a thoroughbred stallion – a nag bought with the last of his coins. Instead of coffee – a revolting swill, and instead of a hotel room – a miserable tiny chamber with a couple of straw sacks and a smelly blanket made from goat hair. Instead of nice, long chats – emotionally draining dreams from which there’s no escape. Instead of strolls on broad streets – dark corners where at least your back could be safe.

That’s all you think of. And twenty bucks appear to be a fortune.

Had he been born for that?

For one shirt and one pair of trousers, for busted boots and a dusty hat? For thin soup and stale bread? For cheap weapons? For nightmares plaguing him every night? For the fear filling him out completely and utterly?

All that was left from the past luxury were the gloves. Worn-out, but still loyally protecting his palms.

Lee hated himself. For the life he had been leading lately, for the dirt and the dread. For his trembling hands and his cowardice. He was running from his pursuers and from himself. 

He definitely hadn’t been born for that!

Not for the maddening fear.

Not for the stench and the misery.

Not for …

Everything in this life is resolved in a moment. One bloody moment in which Lee takes a decision.

When he steps from the shadows into the light. Not for himself, but for the others. When he fires six bullets from his crappy gun and gets a seventh in his heart. When he freezes, feeling overwhelmed by pain and …

… freedom?

When he dies, gaining peace.


End file.
